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RECORD SCRATCH

Yep, that's me. The willowy, hauntingly beautiful blonde woman sitting there in the corner with my left hand chained to an iron grating above my head, in the root-filled, dirty basement of a giant tree, in the middle of a hidden city on a planet called bum nowhere, deep in the middle of Ba'al's territory. You're probably wondering how I got myself into this situation.

No I'm NOT. I was there. Good grief, Netty, quit being so gosh darn melodramatic.

Damn. Did I think that out loud?

Yes, you did.

They sat there for another few minutes, their hand stuck through the iron cuff, breathing in the musty air of Ashtoreth's one-room jail, as there wasn't much else to be doing.

So do you think she'll get tired of this and let us go soon?

Maybe. Or maybe she'll just kill us.

Come on. She's kept us alive for three days already, there's got to be some reason for that.

Maybe she's saving us for the feast. She wants us to be the next human sacrifice.

I doubt it. She wouldn't use a Goa'uld for that. Symbolism and all that, remember? I bet she is probably even a little impressed with us, like when she thought we killed Bacchus. She probably just wants to teach us a little lesson about who's the boss and then we will be free and have a chance to get out of here.

Well, I certainly hope you're right.

They continued to wait.

They now felt a shared heartache. Kianna voiced it first.

It's been three days now. Even if we could escape now and make for the Stargate, it would be too late. Tomorrow Jonas will miss us.

He'll think I've joined Ba'al.

You really wanted to prove him wrong, didn't you.

No! I wanted to prove him right. He believes in me. At least, I think so. I hope so. It was Ophrenet who tugged at the chain helplessly. And now I'm stuck here and it's not even my fault.

Maybe if we'd acted earlier like I suggested…

Then what? We'd have enough time to reach the stargate? Not from Ashtoreth's jail we wouldn't! We don't have a release date! In case you haven't noticed, I am not in control of this situation any more. The Goa'uld was more than offended, she was actually hurt.

Sorry, Netty. You're right. It isn't your fault.

A voice interrupted her thoughts.

"M'lady. Is thou… all right?"

"Ah?" Kianna startled back to herself; Netty followed shortly. Marian had come down the narrow; curving dirt stairs and was now standing before her. The slave had looked better herself; she was sporting a brilliant black eye and a few bruises around her wrists.

"Thou seemst… forgive me… a smidge bit at war wi'thyself m'lady." Marian smiled ruefully.

This sort of familiarity would not have happened on the day of their first meeting; Netty realized. They really had warmed up to each other in some sense, despite the strange nature of their relationship.

She'd really have to explain things to the girl at some point. Well, probably soon or never. However, her and Kianna's shared concern and guilt were too great.

"Marian! Are you being imprisoned here? Because of me?"

"Nay, m'lady. Not so exactly. I've been…" she shrank as she glanced over her shoulder back up the stairs. "…sent down to tell thee thou've been summoned. And t' remove thy chains."

"Summoned?" Ophrenet stood up quickly. "Where?"

"T' th' presence of Ashtoreth m'lady. She's holdin' court on the deck above her palace." Marian's voice trembled, though she bit her lips and Netty could tell she was trying to conceal her fear. "She hath gathered the gods for judgment on thee."

Ophrenet allowed Marian to approach and fit a small key into her wrist shackle. It fell off and dangled at the end of its chain. She stepped forward, rubbing her wrist. "Don't be afraid, Marian. You are not the one she is angry with. That would be me. I'll do whatever I can to make sure that nothing happens to you."

"M'lady…" Marian stammered, and for a moment she looked so pale that Netty was sure she was about to faint. It seemed for a moment that she had been about to add something, but if she had, she quickly changed her mind. "They are waiting."

"I'm coming."

Ophrenet went first up the small, rooty stairs and ducked out the entryway.

Nike was standing there, waiting with a zat as soon as she emerged. The goddess of victory had a very self-satisfied smile painted on her lips.

There's two of us and only one of her.

If we were both trained fighters… I know we could make an escape. I could fight for us. But Marian's so timid, I don't think she would try anything, not even at my command.

"Go on then," said Nike. "Ashtoreth wants to see you. Put your hands on your head."

Ophrenet moved her hands to the back of her head. "All right then, you can stop looking so smug about it."

"Hm." Nike's crooked grin only widened.

Nike took them on a relatively long walk; all the way to the lift that ran from the ground-level to Ashtoreth's balcony.

It can't be the next banquet day.

No, it hasn't been long enough.

They stepped into the lift, all three of them. It took over half a dozen slaves to raise the wooden gondola. Nike kept her zat trained on Ophrenet's back. They went up, up, up, into the branches, past one of the lower tree-houses, past the bridges, past Ashtoreth's palace. Down below she could see the shallow pond that fed the symbiotes, the one into which any spilled blood of the human sacrifices would collect rather than being totally lost. Of course Ashtoreth would waste nothing. Slowly they pulled level with the wooden flet. Nike gave her a push and she stepped off, followed by Marian.

The Queen was standing there, in the midst of her posse. The table was gone; and the Goa'uld had not bothered to be seated. Instead they stood around, like invitees to a party which had just been rudely interrupted.

Nike took a step back from Ophrenet and her slave, still pointing the zat. Ophrenet spaced herself a little from Marian, and tried to take the fore.

The furies stood and glared at them. Puck was there in the back, laughing quietly, he seemed to find the situation outrageously funny. The fates simply squinted and then swayed back and forth in unison. Pan sat on his haunches and snarled guterally.

And Ashtoreth strode forward, her anger at last refined and cold, ready to strike.

It occurred to Netty that this was perhaps a slightly bigger deal than she'd been willing to admit.

"Gods!" Ashtoreth addressed the crowd, her smooth yet imperious tone ringing out through the trees. "How shall I punish a Goa'uld who dares to steal from me?"

"Kill her!" yelled Puck.

Kianna's heart skipped a beat; she felt somewhat faint.

Oh Kianna, don't faint on me now. We have to act like that suggestion is as ridiculous as it is. Netty worked quickly to stabilize her host's blood pressure, and the ringing in her ears ceased.

"Ah, my Queen," Ophrenet began. "I'm sure that you feel quite angry right now. My attempt at petty theft was motivated by selfish gain, and unquestionably a serious misstep."

Ashtoreth reached out her hand toward the Fates, and the nearest one produced a machete, which had been concealed behind her back.

Netty spoke faster. "However, consider. My intelligence has already been of much help to you, and I will certainly be able to assist you further by finishing the project to which I have been assigned…" her Goa'uld intonation became, if possible, deeper in her throat as she leaned back from the long blade which Ashtoreth was now leveling at her neck, forcing her chin up. "…on which I was already making much progress…" the blade lightly brushed her skin and she stopped speaking.

"Your cleverness," said Ashtoreth, "was much more endearing when it was directed at Bacchus."

"Your Majesty," sputtered Ophrenet. "I have seen the light, the glorious prestige of your court far outweighs my own plans. Please allow me to remain…"

"Perhaps," said Ashtoreth cooly. She lowered the blade slightly, and Ophrenet and Kianna breathed more steadily. "However, theft must still be punished."

Ophrenet, who was experience in Goa'uld parlance, knew this signaled a concession from the Queen that she was valued more alive than dead. But it wasn't entirely clear whether or not Marian had picked up on this.

The girl dropped to her knees with a painful-sounding thud. "O Goddess!"

Ashtoreth, with her blade still at Ophrenet's throat, inclined her head very slightly toward the human, who before had been seemingly invisible to her, with an air of very mild surprise. However, she did not order silence.

"O Great Goddess!" exclaimed Marian, her voice trembling. She clasped her hands in front of her and hunched her shoulders, looking down at the wooden slats. It was as though her accent had evaporated; she enunciated every word with painstaking clarity. She was delivering undoubtedly the most rehearsed speech she had ever given since Ophrenet had met her. "Allow your humble servant to offer myself to appease thy wrath. I beg of thee not to bring down thy punishment upon my village, the village of Peralt. I prithee to send them rain again, O merciful goddess. Do not withhold it on account of anger with my lady, as my village has had no knowledge of this deed, nor any deed before which could have aroused thy wrath, my Queen. I offer my body to thee to do as thou wilt, but please spare them!"

Then she was silent, bent shaking on the floor, not daring to look up.

Ashtoreth looked at the lotar, then at Ophrenet, then back at the lotar, then back at Ophrenet. Finally, a slow smile spread over her lips. "Very well," she said. "Lotar, I accept your intercession on behalf of your goddess." She withdrew the machete from Ophrenet's throat, its point now hovering somewhere near the ground. "Your village will be spared."

There was something between a weak sigh and a whimper from Marian's direction. Ophrenet and Kianna stood very stiffly, their mind – minds— filled with horror.

"Yes, that is fair. As punishment for taking something away from me, I shall take something away from you." Ashtoreth flipped the machete and offered it handle-first to Ophrenet. "Kill her."

Netty's fingers closed around the wooden handle.

We can't do it.

There was no response. All Kianna knew was that Ophrenet was thinking furiously, her mind running at a hundred miles an hour, too fast to share or process.

Netty, we can't do it.

Cold fear ran like ice down her veins. The body was not hers, and Netty wasn't giving it back. She turned toward Marian, but did not leave Ashtoreth's side.

"Marian, come here." The voice was not hers, she tried to fight it, but her lips formed the words. The other Goa'uld backed away, forming a wide circle around them, all watching intently.

Netty no! You promised! What are you doing?

Marian stood up ever so slowly, her knees faltering, then finally locking. She walked toward them, and bowed her head before Ophrenet.

"Kneel."

Marian knelt, and moved her hair aside from her neck. Kianna watched her own hand level the sword, parallel to the deck. She was screaming in her own mind. Ophrenet! Stop! None of it made any difference. The Goa'uld was in control.

She lowered the tip of the machete down carefully, then raised it up to strike.

With a sudden sideways movement, Ophrenet spun around and plunged the blade into the unprotected stomach of Ashtoreth.

The Goa'uld Queen's mouth opened wide. Her eyes flared with the golden glow of her possession, and remained bright for seconds, as she grasped at her abdomen, then staggered backward. She tried to utter a word, but could not. The light in her eyes was fading.

Ashtoreth's host collapsed.

It was at that moment Kianna could hear Netty's thoughts again.

I have only killed the host—

Quickly! It was the only thing Kianna could think to say.

The naked body of Ashtoreth's host lay there on the planks of the deck, bleeding through the wooden slats and dripping down into the pond below. There was a movement about her neck. The Goa'uld was already escaping.

A black, serpentine form emerged from the back of the neck, writhing wetly on the wood, searching for an opening, any means of escape.

Ophrenet's eye fixed on the snake like a hawk over its prey. Kianna watched her own foot come down with a deliberate stamp. The serpent's skull cracked under the heel of her shoe with a sick crunch. Ophrenet twisted it into the floor.

Then she looked up, and took in the other Goa'uld, standing around, still frozen in shock at what they were witnessing.

There was only one thing to do now, only one way to survive. She had to take charge of this situation. Ophrenet forced the panic on her face into a look of resolve before it could be taken for weakness.

She looked over the group, still holding the sword, and her eyes flashed bright. "Any questions?"